


tougher than the rest

by GladysJones



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Sickfic, caring!fp, sick, sick!fred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GladysJones/pseuds/GladysJones
Summary: A short little three-parter centered around Fred Andrews and his inability to stay healthy.





	tougher than the rest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jugheadjones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jugheadjones/gifts).



> This is for the amazing Julia, who I love with all my heart. You are a stunning human being and I feel so lucky to call you my friend. You have no idea how much you mean to me! <3

FP was exhausted. He had been up since four in the morning and had been at work since five. The day had started rough – he woke up with a sore back, his bike had a flat…it was Monday. But the worst of it was that Fred Andrews was late for work. He had the only key to the trailer which meant FP and his crew were stuck waiting out in the frigid morning air until he arrived.

“The hell you’ve been?” FP grumbled as Fred walked past the group and unlocked the trailer’s door at half past five. The workers filed in to grab their helmets and equipment while FP stood with his arms crossed next to Fred’s desk.

“Sorry.” Was the only response given. He lingered waiting to see if Fred would offer any other insights into where he had been, but he was only met with silence.

“It doesn’t send a good message.” He prodded again hoping that it might get him talking more.

Fred shook his head. “Yeah. I know, F.”

But it wasn’t until then that FP really had a good look at him. As Fred raised his head and the two made eye contact he instantly knew what was going on. Fred was a few shades paler than normal save for his cheeks that were flushed a light red. The dark circles under his eyes stood out in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the trailer.

“You’re sick.” His voice was softer than it had been earlier. He cursed himself for not noticing the second Fred arrived. In fact, he should have known something was wrong by the sheer fact that he was late. Sure, he wasn’t always punctual to social events. But work? Fred was the type of person to always arrive ten minutes early.

Fred rubbed a hand over his face as he sniffled into his palm. “I’m fine.”

“Did this just come on?” FP asked ignoring the obvious lie.

Fred shook his head and rubbed at his eyes.

“How long?” FP sat up on the edge of Fred’s desk. If he had been feeling like himself Fred would have probably thought of something clever to say.

“I don’t know. Friday night maybe?” Fred shook his head. “Really, it’s nothing.”

“Have you taken anything?”

“Yeah, just some over-the-counter things we had around the house.”

“Well if you’ve taken something, then it’s not nothing.”

“Really, F, I’m fine.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. “It’s just a cold.”

FP reached his hand out and placed it gently on Fred’s forehead. He let it drift to the side of his face – Fred’s stubble slightly pricking his skin. Then he moved the hand slowly to the back of his neck. Fred shivered against the cold touch. “You’re definitely running a fever.”

Fred wasn’t surprised to hear that. He was pretty sure he had been running a fever throughout the entire weekend. He couldn’t be bothered to find his old thermometer, but he had been alternating between hot and cold every other second. One minute he was laying in bed naked, his sheets pushed aside, and the air-conditioning cranked up. The next he was putting on two layers of sweatpants, his largest jumper, and burying himself under a heap of blankets.

“Hey, is Jones in here?” someone asked opening the door.

He didn’t take his eyes off Fred as he called back. “Yeah?”

“We need you outside. There’s a problem with one of the machines.”

He hesitated, his hand still lingering on the back of Fred’s neck. “Okay, just need to finish up in here.”

“Sure thing, boss.” The door closed.

FP ran his fingers through the loose waves of Fred’s hair. “You should go home.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Yeah. But I’m an idiot.” FP gave him a half smile before furrowing his brow once more. “Seriously, take it easy until I can come back, okay?”

Fred nodded his head and tiredly lifted three fingers into the air. “Scout’s honour.”


End file.
